Nine Lives
by Zalamander
Summary: Rose is a rebellious Dhampir gone rogue at the age of seventeen, and when knowledge of a Strigoi revolution in Russia reaches her she joins an operation in Novosibirsk to overthrow it. In doing so she meets Dimitri, a hardcore Russian Guardian with an impenetrable exterior. For whatever reason, Rose feels drawn to him, but can love really find its place in a world of chaos?
1. Chapter 1

"Ms. Hathaway, are you listening?"

I jerked my head up and my gaze met with Kirova's narrowed Hawk-like eyes. They weren't the largest to begin with, but with this face she was making they were so damn tiny you couldn't even see what color they were. Probably black, to match her soul.

"Of course I am."

"Hm." Her tone was disbelieving. "As I was saying, there has been a massive amount of Strigoi attacks in the bigger cities of Russia lately, and they don't have nearly enough Guardians to address the issue." She paused, seeming to contemplate her next words. "We are therefore inclined to send our own, which is where you come into the picture."

"That's a bit delusional, don't you think?" I snickered, slouching back in my chair just to annoy her. "I'm not a Guardian. I don't take orders from you."

"I know that," said Kirova with a disgruntled sigh. "But the Guardian numbers have dropped tremendously these last few years and despite your… _status,_ I would have thought you still had our society's _survival_ as a priority –"

"Give me a break" I interrupted, annoyed with her choice of words. "I'm pretty sure I've done ten times more than these guys –" I randomly gestured towards Kirova's three Guardians standing behind me, "– for our survival and you know it. What I don't get is why you suddenly want to send me, an 'irresponsible rogue', on a mission as important as this."

Kirova took off her horn-rimmed glasses and began to casually polish them, avoiding my piercing gaze. "No matter how I feel about you abandoning your duties, I cannot deny that you are one of the best fighters there is, and as I told you – with the Guardians dropping in numbers there aren't many options left."

"Gee, that really makes me feel special. But thanks, I guess."

"Does that mean you accept?"

I grinned. "Duh. I would've done it anyway, but I wouldn't be me if I just let you boss me around like that. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

Kirova grunted and annoyance was clear on her face, but there was also relief and gratitude.

That was a first.

"So what's the plan?" I asked. "Do I just head over there and take them down? Man, it's been way too long since I did something like that!"

It would be a lie to say I wasn't excited about this. Ever since Christian – my partner in crime – and his girlfriend Lissa decided to spend six months at St. Vladimirs Academy because of the possibilities of learning more about the recently discovered and very rare element of Spirit, which Lissa possessed, I felt like I was missing out on all the action and quite frankly, it was killing me. I needed to do something useful soon or I was going to burst, and I had no doubt Pyro felt the same though he'd never admit to it.

The two of us had been thick as thieves since what seemed like forever, bound together by our mutual dislike for the society we lived in. Christian was a fire user, something we realized had its perks when we'd faced our first Strigoi in Spokane a couple of years back, and as soon as he graduated – I was only seventeen at the time, which meant I hadn't ever gotten my promise mark – we ran off to New York to hunt down and kill more of them. We were an unbeatable pair, what with his magic and my fighting skills, and had become quite feared among the Strigoi population. Not that anyone in our society acknowledged that of course, but still. Christian's parents had willingly turned Strigoi when he was a small child, and if it hadn't been for his aunt Tasha they eventually would have turned him as well. As it were, Tasha managed to detain them with her fiery element until Guardians arrived and killed them both, but from that day onward the Ozera name had gotten a bad ring to it and Christian in particular, being the closest relative, was shunned. This was the reason for his aversion to the system, and as for me, well… I never knew my father and my mom, the famous Guardian Hathaway, had dropped me off at the school when I was four years old and had never visited me since. I grew up to resent her and everything she stood for, that immaculate sense of duty most of all. I didn't want to throw my life away for the Moroi when it stood clear as day that with their magic, they could make a contribution to our front lines instead of cowering behind them in fear of breaking a nail.

Anyway, when we visited Tasha at Court a while ago, Christian met Lissa, the last Dragomir. Queen to be, we were told. And of course, the idiot fell in love with her. At least, that's how I saw it at the time. But as I had gotten to know her and realized how right they were for each other, I changed my mind. She became my friend, almost as good a one as Christian, and it all changed from there, for the better or worse. The three of us stuck together, no matter what.

And here I was, a year later, starving for some danger.

Kirova's voice brought me out of my memories. "That is exactly what you will _not_ do," she told me indignantly, referring to my suggestion earlier. "We suspect these attacks are a part of a whole, which means you will be operating under _strict_ orders."

I started to protest, but she nailed me with a stern look and I painfully held my tongue.

"I'm sure those orders will be more or less in line with what you usually do, but they will be carefully planned and most likely involve questioning rather than mindless killing." She sent me a pointed half-glare which I promptly ignored.

"What, you mean we'll let them live?"

"Of course not," Kirova scoffed. "You will kill them, but they are to be interrogated before that."

"Oh," I said dumbly. "Well, if that was all I better go pack. When am I leaving?"

"Tomorrow, 09:00. Don't be late."

I flashed a charming smile and stood up. "Wouldn't dream of it."

**I know this was pretty short, but it's my first fanfic and I'm still trying things out. Feel free to give me some constructive criticism or correct any grammar mistakes, I appreciate anything you've got!**


	2. Chapter 2

After a very teary goodbye to Lissa and a slightly less emotional one from Christian I was on my way to St: Petersburg, Russia. The plane had ascended roughly an hour ago and I was already bored out of my mind. Sure, airplanes were alright for the first thirty minutes when you could watch strangely shaped clouds and giggle, but when that gets dull and you're ten thousand feet off the ground, what else is there to do?

That's right. A big, fat nothing.

I had been randomly partnered with some Russian dude called Stan Alto for the mission, and he would be picking me up at the airport when I landed and introduce me to our plan. I'd stay with him at a hotel for one night before transferring to their headquarters in Novosibirsk, and when everything was settled we would receive "following instructions."

I snorted in my seat. Drama queens.

After a while I must have fallen asleep because I when I opened my eyes hours later the pilot was announcing that we had reached our destination and the seatbelt sign in front of me was glowing in orange light. My stomach suddenly felt jittery and my hands were tapping obnoxiously against the armrest next to me, causing the woman sitting next to me to sigh pointedly. I glared back. If she was about to do what I was she'd be nervous too. I had been around quite a lot in my short time as a rogue, but never in Russia and I didn't know what to expect. I had this picture of an arctic wasteland in my head.

Looking out the window as the plane slowly descended, it was painfully obvious how wrong that image was. It was actually really pretty, with lush greenery and tons of birches covering pretty much everything before ornately structured buildings took over, all boasting culture. The closer we got, the closer I could see the architecture of the city and let me just tell you this: Russians might be drama queens, but you had to give them props for their style. It was beautiful.

Arriving to Pulkovo Airport was almost like walking into a huge mall, only there were so many people you couldn't see the stores. Within the first minute I got sick of being pushed around like a ragdoll and quickly came up with a tactic to get through the crowd: I stuck my elbows out like a child and gently – well, more or less – punched those in my way with it. I looked like a complete idiot and probably left some broken bones behind, but at least it worked and I soon found myself scanning the baggage claim area for someone who could pass for the mysterious Stan. There was absolutely no one and I was about to give up when I heard a deep, accented voice from behind me.

"Hathaway."

I turned, and was met with a sight that made heat rush through my body and my knees go week. In front of me stood what I could safely assume was a sex god. An Adonis. He was incredibly tall; maybe six foot seven, and had a muscular body covered up in this ridiculous, long leather coat and dark Levi's. His hair was shoulder-length and tied back at the nape of his neck, a few brown strands framing his tan face, and his eyes were a shade of chocolate that made me want to lick him up. It was only the business-like, almost bored look in them that held me in my spot, and perhaps the powerful almost dangerous vibe that radiated from his body. Despite that, there was no denying his sex appeal.

"You don't look like a Stan" was the first thing I said, and his eyes quickly snapped to mine from carefully appraising my body, similar to what I had done but without the drool.

"That is because I'm not." His voice was laced with a slight Russian accent that any other time would have brought me to my knees.

"Really?" Then what the hell was he bothering me for? "That's a real shame, 'cause I'm looking for a Stan. If you'll excuse me –"

"My name is Dimitri Belikov" he interrupted and extended a large hand towards me, but me being me I refused it and crossed my arms.

"Don't recognize it. Besides, a name doesn't really give you shit. Something more cool, like a badge, might." I peered at his long coat. "A donut would work too, but I don't suppose you have any of those hidden in there?"

The man just stared at me before grabbing my arm and yanking me with him towards one of the doors. His hand felt really good against my skin and there was a sort of tingle going up my body at his touch – _he's also kidnapping you, Rose!_

"You talk too much," he said to me while dragging me along.

"No I don't," I protested while furiously struggling against his hold. "You just say that because you don't talk enough."

He didn't answer, just continued to walk.

"You just proved my point," I informed him and then almost slammed into his back when he came to an abrupt halt behind a huge black vehicle in the parking lot and turned around to face me, his expression blank except for the straining around his eyes that told me he was in fact annoyed. I mentally fist pumped. At least he didn't look bored anymore.

"Be quiet. Guardian Alto has been excused from this mission because of confidential reasons which means you'll be working for me." My eyes widened in surprise and I opened my mouth to object to the whole "_for_ me"-part, but quickly closed it when his lethal eyes met mine in warning.

"However" he continued, "since I am of a higher rank in this operation, this will involve greater risks for you. Do you understand?"

I nodded gravely and saluted him. "Sir, yes sir!"

Dimitri's dark eyes narrowed and I fought the sudden urge to cower in fear.

"I'm being serious."

"So am I!"

He sighed and stepped back, still looking dissatisfied. "Get in the car."

The drive was… interesting, to say the least. It started out okay, with a surprisingly comfortable silence between us, but then I got bored and put on the radio and started to restlessly switch between stations until Dimitri's hand suddenly shot out and grabbed my outstretched arm. His dark eyes were fixated on the road, but his right one twitched in annoyance. No words made it past his lips but his grip wouldn't let up.

"I'm all for holding your hand Comrade, but just a tad bit looser would be nice. You're killing my blood stream."

He didn't let go, nor did he lighten his grip. "Will you leave the radio alone?"

"No," I said immediately. I hated being ordered around. Then I winced because Dimitri squeezed my wrist harder, stopping my blood stream for real. "Alright alright! Jeez Comrade, no need to get violent."

He let go and returned his hand to the steering wheel while I rubbed my wrist. "Don't call me that. It's offending."

I winked at him. "I know."

After that he refused to open his delicious mouth again and the ride went fairly smoothly from there. A few hours later we pulled into a parking lot outside of a small motel. It wasn't run down, but it wasn't particularly nice either and I had a hard time wiping the scowl off my face as we entered the building. At least it looked clean, though. The blonde receptionist greeted us, or rather Dimitri, with a flirty smile and my scowl deepened, there to stay this time.

"Хороший вечер сэр, как я могу вам помочь?" she purred, squeezing her chest up. I had to admit, she had nice boobs, and they didn't look fake either.

Self-consciously I peeked down my own top while Dimitri spoke to the receptionist in quick Russian, his voice as quiet and hard as always and I hid a smirk. She was so not getting him hot. Then again, neither had I. But at least I was fairly certain my rack was better.

When Dimitri finally got away from Blondie's red painted claws he handed me a key pad with the number 301 on, and followed him up the stairs. Our room, though boring and designed in different dull shades of beige, was a lot nicer than I had thought. The floor was carpeted and two small beds took up most of the space, separated by a wooden table with a pale yellow lamp on top of it. There was a bathroom to my left and a teeny tiny TV by the wall opposite the beds.

Dimitri placed his small duffel bag on the floor next to one of the beds and then perched himself in a brownish chair by the window, picking up a book from the pocket of his coat. As I looked closer I realized that it wasn't actually a coat but a leather duster, and that the book he had picked up was a western novel. My lips twitched. Dimitri wanted to be a cowboy.

"You like cowboys?" I spoke my thoughts. Dimitri looked up, a soft half-smile on his lips. It was the first time I had seen him smile and I couldn't help but stare. He looked so much younger, and even though this wasn't even a real smile his face lightened up the room. If he ever unleashed a full one I'd probably faint on the spot. Fortunately for me, that did not seem likely.

"I prefer the term the Old West, but initially yes, I do," he answered and I smiled back.

But then Dimitri's eyes went blank and he turned his head down to the pages, and I broke out of my embarrassing ogling. Giving an awkward cough I quickly shuffled into the tiny bathroom for a shower, locking the door behind me.

When I got out, surrounded by a spicy vanilla and pumpkin pie-scented cloud and with a towel wrapped around my body, Dimitri was lying on his bed with his arms crossed behind his head and his dark gaze firmly on the ceiling, not once flickering to my half-naked form. He didn't say anything as usual and I draped a huge T-shirt over my body before climbing into my own bed.

"Dimitri?"

"Yes." His voice gave away nothing.

"You still haven't told me what the mission is about," I said, shifting in my bed so I could look at him. He didn't move from his position.

"No, I have not. We will leave for Novosibirsk first thing in the morning, and I will tell you about our assignment then." He paused, reaching over for the bedside lamp and turned it off, leaving us in complete blackness. "Get some rest."

I did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I'm not a fan of author's notes, but I just wanted to thank everyone who took their time to review. It means a lot :) Chapter three below.**

"Holy motherfucking cow" I groaned as the sharp light hit my face.

"Watch your tongue," Dimitri's voice came in my ear and I squirmed at the closeness. Or rather, I squirmed because of the disconcerting goose bumps this closeness was causing me. "We overslept. Get out of bed before I drag you out myself."

His commanding tone pissed me off and I opened one eye like a crocodile and gave him a glare. "You wouldn't dare."

A second later my covers were jerked off my body making the cool air hit my exposed skin, and I was slung over Dimitri's shoulder before I had even registered the cold.

"What the hell are you doing" I screeched, struggling to keep my dignity in this rather unladylike position. "Put me down right now or I swear to God you will regret it!"

Dimitri chuckled darkly while grabbing both our bags and exiting the room. I was punching every body part I could reach while muttering obscenities in his ear, but that did not seem to affect the Russian in the slightest. When we reached the stairs he abruptly let go and I fell on my ass. He glanced down at me, the ghost of a mocking smile on his lips.

"Do not challenge me again, Ms. Hathaway," he said.

I couldn't do anything but stare dumbfounded at his backside – his abnormally _hot_ backside – as he disappeared down the stairs without another word, but later as we rode in that silence towards our final destination – which, by the way, I still knew nothing about – I had begun to contemplate my revenge. I was thinking along the lines of a sledgehammer and Dimitri's genitals when I was rudely interrupted by the very item of my disturbing thoughts.

"Hathaway" he barked. "We are here."

I rolled my eyes. "I get it Comrade, there's no need to get grumpy. It doesn't really suit you."

"Do not call me that."

"Call you what, Comrade?" I grinned childishly at his frustrated expression and slid out of the car. We were parked in one of the few brightly outlined spots outside a modern-looking, tall building with glass walls that reflected the rapidly dimming sky and a wide staircase leading up to a marble entrance. Judging by the trafficked road and the amount of people crowding the sidewalks, we would have to be at least close to, if not in, the center of Novosibirsk. This was expected of course, as Strigoi more often than not stalked the most crowded nightclubs and bars for their pray. A disappearance was less likely to be noticed in places like that.

I followed Dimitri up the stairs and into the lobby, my black vans clinking dully against the marble flooring. Clusters of men and a few women stood around with coffee mugs in their hands, as if they intended to stay up all night, and there was not one human in sight. I frowned at this and looked at Dimitri, wondering how they pulled this off, but he just gave me an 'I'll explain later' kind of look. I quietly seethed. I was getting sick of being in the dark.

"Alright" I said once inside our joint room. "You have a lot of questions to answer. I don't like not being in the loop so if you want to keep your genitals in that lovely symmetrical shape you've got going right now, you better start talking."

Dimitri crinkled his eyebrows at me strangely, hands formally behind his back, before shaking his head as if trying to get rid of an annoying insect. I tried not to be insulted.

"This is our base camp, so to speak," he began. "There are roughly forty Guardians staying here at the moment, though within the next few days more will arrive. We have all been divided into pairs, like you and me, and will mostly work within those pairs unless another group is in need of our assistance, which we will of course provide." He paused for a moment. "I'm sure you were wondering how the hotel haven't yet been attacked, considering our large number… well, we have a few Moroi staying here as well to place and maintain wards, as well as charming the building so that it will be disregarded by humans, which means neither Strigoi nor humans have access to it."

"Oh" I said slowly, processing this. "Okay then, moving on. What are we here for, exactly? Kirova told me we would be interrogating Strigoi instead of _mindlessly killing them_," I mimicked her bitchy tone, "but if that's true then we are in deep shit because they're not gonna be pleasant about that. Also, she said you guys thought the Strigoi here belong to some sort of group? A part of a whole, I think her exact words were. Is that true?"

"Yes," Dimitri deadpanned. "They call themselves the Îndreptăţit, which means the rightful, and it appears their numbers are increasing incredibly fast. Too fast." He dragged a hand down his face, tiredly. "Not surprisingly, the Moroi regime decided we had to intervene before it got too out of hand… For the last few months they have been sending us Guardians from all over the world, and you're in the last draft. Within a week all pairs will have received their assignment, but before then we have to make sure everyone is in top shape and ready for anything that may be thrown at them. After all, this is more or less unknown territory for us and we do not know what's in store. This has never happened before."

I nodded slowly, my brain furiously storing the information. "Okay. So… I mean, what do they want? The inter-whatever, what is their goal with all of this?"

Dimitri smiled bitterly, but there was no trace of humor in his face. "World-wide domination."

"_What?_" I burst, almost falling off the creamy chair I was sitting in. "But that's ridiculous!"

He didn't say anything and I paused, reconsidering what I had been told. "Wait, how many are they?"

"Hundreds. Maybe even thousands" he answered flatly, and this time I really did fall off my chair. Thousands? _Thousands?_ Thousands of Strigoi banding sounded completely and absolutely impossible. Absurd. How could that have passed unnoticed for so long? I mean, a thousand Strigoi would leave a pretty distinct trail. Hell, Novosibirsk should be leveled to the ground by now. Although to think that they were all gathered in one place was very unlikely... More probable was that they had a sort of network connecting them to each other from different places, which was possibly even worse. More places to search through.

"Shit" I muttered, standing up from my sprawled position on the ground. My head spun. We couldn't do this. "Well, how many are _we?"_

"Roughly one hundred. But we have an advantage seeing as they don't know we know about them. Yet, anyway" he added. "Which means if we put our mind to it we can diminish their numbers quite a lot before they figure out we are onto them, and by then we will hopefully have gathered enough information to know where their main hideouts are located and who their leaders are so we can strike. That is our mission. To get them to talk and to kill as many as possible."

"That sounds pretty vague" I noted, and Dimitri nodded.

"It is, but we don't have time to develop a more detailed plan" he responded. "We have to take action, and we have to do it now."

I shrugged and gave him a small grin. "Well, I'm not complaining. If you hadn't heard I'm all for that sort of thing."

Dimitri's lips twitched into an unusually genuine smile and I felt a jittery feeling settle in my stomach, repressing the foreboding chilliness. I had made him smile, even if it was just for a second.

Despite everything I had just been told I was pathetically feeling all warm and giddy as I crawled beneath the covers of my bed, but what Dimitri said next completely shattered my good mood.

"Training begins at five thirty tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello my readers! Like always I wanna thank all of you for reading and reviewing and following and whatnot, it never fails to make my day. Here is the next chapter for you, enjoy :)  
**

True to his word, Dimitri had set an alarm on five o'clock and an obnoxious blare woke me up from my peaceful slumber. Not wanting a repeat of what happened at the motel, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed. Only to be met by the exciting sight of Dimitri's bare back as he pulled an olive green T-shirt down his head, muscles rippling. _This might just be worth waking up early_, I thought and licked my lips absentmindedly.

"Ms. Hathaway?" His voice startled me and I realized I had been staring into space, a goofy grin on my lips. I gave him an innocent look.

"Guardian Belikov."

His eyes narrowed with suspicion but after staring at me for a moment he let it go and turned to make his bed while I dove into my duffel bag looking for a sports bra. Along with it I brought a pair of shorts and a stretchy white camisole into the bathroom to get changed, and when I came out moments later with my hair in a high ponytail Dimitri was already standing by the door waiting, his arms crossed over his chest and that T-shirt clinging to his muscles. I noticed his gaze flicker to my neck where the thirteen molnija marks contrasted with my olive-toned skin, before he gave me a curt nod.

"You ready?"

I stretched, hands above my head, and yawned like a cat. "Not really. I wanna go to bed."

Dimitri rolled his eyes and gestured for me to follow him out of the room, disregarding my protests as if they were flies. Somehow that struck a nerve, as if he was a hundred percent certain he could easily defeat whatever fuss I might throw. My blood tickled with annoyance – did he think he was better than me?

I straightened my shoulders and put a look of defiance on my face as I exited the room, his attitude willing me to prove myself. I was often underestimated because of my flippant behavior outside battle, but I had no doubt about my ability to fight because Kirova was right: I was one of the best. And I didn't like to be treated like I wasn't.

We descended a few flights of stairs and were way past the ground floor when Dimitri stopped in front of two sickly gray slide doors with a thick plastic window on each one, and punched in a code in some device next to it. With a buzz the doors slid aside and we stepped into a long corridor in the same shade of gray and with doors identical to the first one along the walls. The air was slightly chillier down here and I wrapped my arms around my torso.

"Are you cold?"

I looked up and saw Dimitri's brown eyes look at me with something akin to concern, but my temper had yet to cool down and I was too upset with him to give him any kind of satisfaction. I dropped my arms and glared at him.

"No."

He looked at me for a moment longer and then turned in exasperation, and I had to struggle to keep up with his long stride. At long last he stopped in front of a new door and opened it the same way he did the last, revealing a large, well-lit room with smooth wooden flooring and white walls lined with mirrors. The floor was littered with blue training mats and a large window going the length of the entire wall to my left, the one with no mirrors, showed a gym on the other side. Both the gym and what I assumed was a sort of sparring area were strikingly empty and I silently cursed Dimitri for waking me up so early when obviously everyone else was soundly asleep, as they should be. _Stupid Russian dictator._

Dimitri placed his bottle of water on the ground and then faced me, looking serious.

"Right," he said, his grim Guardian mask in place and his hands behind his back in a military-like pose. "Let's begin. First of all, I need to know you are capable of whatever will be required from you out there, and since you dropped out of St: Vladimir's Academy before your training was finished and haven't guarded anyone, I have no record of your abilities – which means I'll be testing them myself." He paused and the formality of his voice dropped just a bit. "Before we begin though, you need to warm up. There's a treadmill through that door; ten minutes of light jogging should be enough."

He pointed to the glass door leading to the gym, but I didn't move. It was the first time he'd mentioned the fact that I wasn't really a Guardian but a rogue, and I felt like I needed to know how he felt about that.

"Do you judge me?"

Dimitri had begun to stretch his cads against the wall but looked up at my question. "For what?"

"Do you believe," I said slowly, enunciating, "that I am some irresponsible, glory-seeking little girl who couldn't be bothered to finish her education?" My voice was a barely concealed accusation, and I saw him blink, understanding dawning on him.

"I don't think that," he answered carefully. "But I can't say I agree with your decision either because honestly, I don't. _Our_ race as well as theirs depends on the Moroi surviving, and unlike us they weren't born with the capabilities to protect themselves against Strigoi. For me, abandoning them is not even an option." _Abandoning them like you did. _He didn't say it out loud, but his eyes said it all, and for whatever reason I felt a sting of betrayal in my chest. And then a surge of anger.

"You think that just because I refuse to be a disposable pawn in the hands of some ungrateful royal Moroi brat, I abandoned the entire race?" I accused, angry heat churning in my stomach. "You think I just kill for the fun of it?"

Dimitri didn't say anything.

"You say they can't defend themselves," I continued hotly, "but that is a lie because they can – they _can _defend themselves!What they can do with their magic – it's more than what we do with our bodies, it... it can cause damage on Strigoi unlike anything we can ever imagine, and I know this from experience. They could join us in battle, they could help us, and what do they do?" My voice had risen and I was barely aware of Dimitri at that point. "They cower behind _us _and watch _us _drop dead at their fucking feet, having given our entire lives at their disposal. We can't fall in love, we can't have friends, we can't even take care of our own _children –_"

"Rose."

Dimitri's voice was closer than I would've thought it would be and I discovered he was standing right in front of me, his hands on my shoulders and his dark eyes on mine. I felt my own burn and realized with a wave of embarrassment that they were brimming with unshed tears. I quickly wiped them off and turned away.

"I'll, uh, just go warm up then," I muttered, hating myself for being weak in front of him. His hand twitched as if he wanted to take hold of me and drag me back to him as I walked past him towards the gym, but instead he just watched me go, his expression unreadable.

I didn't exactly warm up. Well, I did work out, but by the time I was done beating the living daylights out of the poor punching bag hanging tiredly from a hook in the ceiling, my muscles were aching and my breath came in quick pants, waves of fatigue washing over me. And yet I didn't want to stop. When the door to the gym opened and Dimitri entered, I jumped up from leaning against the wall and chugging down water like I hadn't had a drink for years.

"I'm ready," I told him and threw the empty bottle aside. "Let's do this."

But Dimitri shook his head, his dark gaze wavering almost unperceptively as it flickered down my sweat-soaked appearance, with the camisole clinging to my curves. He exhaled a rush of air and quickly turned away, then back at me but with his eyes guarded and set firmly on my face. "You're exhausted, Rose, you need to rest," he told me. "We can fight in a few hours."

"I'm not tired," I insisted. "And where was this attitude this morning? _That _was me being exhausted, and you wouldn't let me rest then so why now, when I actually want to train?"

"You weren't physically drained this morning," said Dimitri patiently, "just drowsy, not like you are now. Besides, breakfast is in ten minutes and you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday."

"I don't care." I stubbornly placed my hands on my hips. "I have all this… this energy pent up inside me right now and I just, I need to get rid of it, okay? Come on, Dimitri!" I pleaded and took satisfaction in seeing his determined stance waver. "Please."

Just as I expected, he relented, but I could see he wasn't very happy about it. His dark eyes glinted dangerously, but I knew the word 'please' had thrown him off because I was a bit thrown off myself. "Fine, then. If you get hurt or faint on the spot, don't say I didn't warn you."

I breathed out. "I won't get hurt," I promised. "Or faint, I swear."

Dimitri stayed silent for a moment, his lips a line of disapproval, but when he saw the grateful expression on my face he seemed to soften.

"Fine" he said again, more gently this time. "Then let's go."

He went back to the training room and I watched through the window as he dragged one of the mats to the center of the room, the muscles tensing under his T-shirt and teasing my eyes. Dimitri had the looks of a God, I had established that long ago, but there was something more about him – something about that sheer power and intensity he carried himself with that made him almost too gorgeous to look at. It was like staring into the sun. My gaze trailed the tan skin of his broad, masculine shoulders and I could almost feel the taste of it on my tongue; salty with fresh sweat and that unique tang that was purely Dimitri –

"Rose?" I cursed under my breath. Why does this keep happening to me? "I thought you said you wanted to fight?"

I shot him a haughty look through the glass, irrationally feeling angry at him for interrupting my pleasant wind-wandering, and stalked out the door.

Things were about to get interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

**And here's chapter five, right on time! **

**Hah. Kidding. It's not. At all. And I deserve to be hanged and burned, I know, but I just haven't been motivated to write. I don't even have a valid excuse, I just felt sort of stuck and I really am sorry. I will update more frequently from now on, I swear. I also now have this little staircase with all the steps in the story written down - seriously, I drew squares on my word document and wrote stuff on them - which is great because they help me feel a lot more organized. Anyway, this chapter is over 3000 words to make up for some of the wait, and I'd love to know what you think so I can improve my writing and make this story better, so if you don't have anything to do I'd love a review. Thanks!**

We circled each other, both waiting for the other to strike first. Dimitri looked disconcertingly big and scary, his eyes attentive and focused and watching me like a lion watches a gazelle, but I refused to let it intimidate me. This was not a game of prey and predator – and no way in hell was I his victim. With that thought in mind I struck out, hard, aiming for his left cheek. He dodged it easily, and I fumed, but kept moving. For a while we just watched each other's patterns, memorizing and analyzing them, and then he made his move. I barely had time to dodge it, but it acted as a catalyst and suddenly our arms and legs were flying out in a lethal disarray of limbs, some hitting their targets and some not. It went on like that for what seemed like hours, and he was gaining on me. I didn't have the strength to keep this up anymore, but I couldn't fold. I couldn't surrender. Rose Hathaway doesn't surrender. I aimed for a roundhouse kick to Dimitri's stomach despite my protesting body, and to my surprise it actually hit its target.

Dimitri stumbled back almost imperceptibly, and in that split of a second I saw an opening. Without thinking twice I went for it. We landed in a heap on the floor, me on top of him straddling his waist and struggling to pin him under me, but somehow he managed to grab my arm and flip us over. Before I even knew what was happening he had my arms pinned over my head, every part of my body pressed against the floor and both our breaths coming in quick, hot pants.

"Dead," he pronounced in my ear, causing a pleasant shiver to run down my spine, and it was then I realized how close we were. Every part of my body was touching his and the beat of his heart was firmly pounding against my own. I looked up to see Dimitri already staring at me with his normally chocolate brown eyes blazing with need and darkened almost to the point of where his irises melted into his pupil.

"Rose," he rasped, voice somewhere between a warning and a plea, and I could practically taste him on my tongue. God, I wanted him. I looked into his eyes, willing him to lower his lips to mine, and just as he was leaning in the sound of the door opening broke the intense spell we were in and Dimitri was off me in a flash. I shook my head, disoriented, before following his lead.

"Good form, Hathaway!"

I froze, panting heavily from what had happened just seconds ago as I slowly turned around towards the sound of the voice. Those words, and that voice… I recognized that voice. But it couldn't be…

"Mason!"

The fiery redhead grinned broadly and opened his arms just in time for me to jump into them. I buried my head in his shoulder and wrapped my legs around his waist, and poor Mason discreetly backed himself against the wall to support himself.

"Don't think I didn't notice that," I joked half-heartedly, while scrutinizing his familiar features. Mason and I had been great friends before I left the Academy with Christian, in that goofy, smartassy kind of way only boys and girls can be friends. We constantly flirted and tilted towards something more than friendship but never instigated anything more than some harmless make-out sessions because of the lack of chemistry between us, though at times I think he was crushing on me. Judging by the way his eyes flew down to where our bodies connected I'd say some of the feelings from back then were still there and I quickly let go, dropping to the ground. I smiled at him.

"What are you doing here?"

Mason chuckled and dragged me back in for another quick hug. "You must have left your brain at the Academy, Rose." Oh, funny.

"At least I still have my wits."

He rolled his eyes and sighed, smiling. "What do you think I'm doing here?"

"Spending some quality time with your favorite girl?"

"As if," he snorted. "I'm here to save the world, actually."

I laughed, but my answer was cut short by the sound of a throat clearing behind us, and I turned to see Dimitri standing formally next to our training mat with his stony gaze trained on me. He too was still panting slightly from our intense… sparring match, and his delicious chest heaved up and down, accentuating his muscles. Oh sweet lord, was he hot. Too hot for his own good. All I wanted to do was throw myself against him and lick him all over… I imagined the salty taste of his skin under my tongue and felt my body burn in anticipation. Then I looked at Mason, who was now staring back at Dimitri, and immediately sprung to action.

"Oh, right. Uh, Mason this is Dimitri Belikov, my partner as of yesterday, and Dimitri this is Mason Ashford." I smiled at Mason. "He's an old friend from St. Vlad's."

They shook hands and Dimitri gave him a small nod of approval before moving on to the mats to stretch. I almost rolled my eyes; he had to be the most anti-social guy on the planet – and yet somehow you keep wanting more of him. Or at least I did. Mason seemed to share my sentiment though, judging by the almost awestruck way he was staring at Dimitri's delicious back.

"Do you know him or something?" Mason shifted his attention back to me, eyes incredulous.

"Do _you _not know who that _is_?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I do, I just told you."

"You're kidding right?" He shook his head. "You really haven't been in the loop at all lately, have you? That guy is a God. He's got the most Strigoi kills in the world; famous all over for them too. Practically a legend, and he's only twenty-four years old. I can't believe you didn't know that!"

I stared in shock at Dimitri, who was stretching his muscled arms, and then back at Mason. "Are you serious?"

He nodded vigorously. "Hell yeah, I'm serious. I had no idea he would be working with us. I actually think they offered him the position to be in charge of this whole operation… He must've turned it down. I wonder why –" he muttered more to himself than me, but I answered him anyway.

"He probably wanted to fight." I shrugged. "The people in command just sit at their desks all day doling out orders; they're not really out there, you know. He doesn't seem like the paperwork kind of person."

"No, maybe not" he agreed and then gave me a lopsided smile. "So you're his partner, huh?"

I grinned. "Jealous?"

"No," he winked. "In a couple of days you'll be wishing you were me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Mason smirked. "It means he's gonna be a pain in the ass, that's what it means." He started towards the door. "I'm gonna go get breakfast. It ends in ten, so if you want some you better hurry up," he added over his shoulder before he disappeared, leaving me with disgruntled scowl on my face. If every morning was going to be like this one I would claw someone's eyes out – preferably a certain pair of dark and mysterious ones. Speaking of which, Dimitri had stopped stretching and was leaning against the wall with a bottle of water in his hand. I strutted over to him.

"Comrade?"

He tilted his head slightly so he was looking at me. "Yes?"

"Is starving to death part of my job description?"

Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "If food is available, then no." He got up from the wall, his dark eyes dancing with an unusual humor. "I suppose this is your way of letting me know you are hungry?"

"Did you not understand it?"

"It just seems like an awful lot of words for something that can be expressed in so few."

I snorted. "Of course _you_ would say that. Some people talk for fun, you know."

He laughed, and the sound mesmerized me. Was that the first time I had heard him laugh? The throaty sound felt like two knives of sun driving into my heart. "They sure do," he agreed with a pointed look my way and then disappeared into the men's locker rooms, to take a shower, I presumed and followed suit.

The days after that preceded in pretty much the same routine. I woke up at an ungodly hour, whined for a bit, then trained with Dimitri and ate breakfast – donuts – with Mason, then trained some more, then had lunch with all the other Guardians to discuss strategy or make nervous jokes and then I kicked their asses in the gym until dinner, where I was mostly to beat to do anything but shovel food into my mouth like a maniac, and then I fell asleep after stumbling up to my room. And then it all starts over again; it's extremely tiring and after six days, I'm getting more and more inclined to stick a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger.

The only difference, I think, since my first day, was that Dimitri had unexpectedly closed himself off again, completely. It was frustrating as hell, especially since I had thought we'd been making some progress that day. I mean, he laughed. And almost kissed me. What's wrong with him?

"This," Alberta Petrov said, pointing a long, naked finger at a building just outside the most central parts of Novosibirsk on a map and rousing me from my musings, "is the Nightingale. It's a nightclub, very popular both with humans and Moroi, and has through the years been a popular location for Strigoi attacks. In only a matter of months, these attacks have increased with more than three times the original amount." Guardian Petrov's brown eyes swept through the mass of Dhampirs who surrounded her, all listening intently with those stony faces on, and all dressed in the black-and-white Guardian attire – well, all except for me. I wore jeans, and my face was probably showing all kinds of emotions – anger and impatience among others. I was standing in a large conference room with about twenty other Dhampirs, all a part of what they called "section A". We had been listening to Alberta speak for about half an hour, first going over what Dimitri had already told me days ago and then pointing out on a map the various locations where we would strike – mostly nightclubs and bars, but also a few hotels – and assigning them to different Guardians. Everyone involved in the mission weren't here of course, or this place would be crowded as fuck, but even with our smaller numbers I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic. Not to sound like a moron or anything but this was the first time I had been in on a large, planned, _organized _attack against Strigoi and all the orders and expressionless robotic Guardians were freaking me out a little. Not to mention the fact that looking around this room, I was sure not even half of the faces I saw was going to make it out alive.

"…will be handled by Guardian Belikov and Rose Hathaway. Has everyone understood."

Wait, what?

I tuned back in and realized that every eye in the room was on me, filled with either curiosity or distrust at my lack of Guardian title. I met their gazes with confidence, though secretly wondering what the hell I had just been told to do, and most of them looked away. My eyes fell on Dimitri and I realized he had already been looking at me, his dark eyes as unreadable and mysterious as usual. I wanted to look at them some more, but as if he'd read my thoughts he quickly snapped his gaze away from me and turned to Alberta.

"Well," he said smoothly. "I am certain both Miss Hathaway and myself will be ready for anything that may come. Is that all?"

Alberta nodded and turned to the ring of Dhampirs. "That's all for today. I hope you all know what you're in for and what is expected of you, and if anything changes until tomorrow I will let you know." She bunched up her papers in a neat pile and folded up the map that had been spread over the table in the conference room, and the Guardians around me began to disperse. As soon as I stepped through the door I felt a strong hand grab my wrist and I was yanked aside. I would have fought had I not immediately recognized that aftershave.

"You weren't listening, were you?" He seemed angry.

"Of course I was!" I growled and tugged against his grip. "Let go of me right now!" There was an implied _or else _at the end of that sentence, which Dimitri promptly ignored.

Instead his grip on my arm tightened and he lowered his head so that his huge body was curved menacingly over my own, boxing me in. "Do _not_ lie to me, Rose. Do you have any idea what you are up against here, what you – what _we_ are in the middle of? This is life and death in the purest sense, and if you want to come out of this alive then you need to stay focused. _I _need you to stay focused." He suddenly released me and took a step back, somewhat regaining his control.

Something I had learned during this almost-week of training with Dimitri Belikov was that it took a lot to make him lose control or even set him on edge. Ever since that first day he'd been this distant, cold and controlled Guardian-self, and it was impossible to get to him – impossible to get close to him.

Oh and about that. I really really _wanted_ to get close to him. Because, pathetic as it sounds, I had developed a serious crush. Yes, a crush. I, Rosemarie Hathaway, was crushing on my twenty-four year old sparring partner who not only was too godamn hot for his own good but evidently had no interest what so ever in my barely-eighteen self. Oh, and I almost forgot – we're about twenty-something hours away from heading out to kill a bunch of super-strong, super-fast and super-evil vampires, and will most likely lose a few bodyparts – if not our lives – in the process. So yeah. Impeccable judgment _and _timing, right?

As it now were, the source of most of my problems – excluding the war-related ones, of course – was right in front of me, looking anywhere but my face as he tried to contain his agitation. I wanted to tell him not to do that. I wanted him to show me who he was. But he would never show me, or anyone, and I knew that. So I just sighed, suddenly so, so tired. I just wanted to curl up in my bed and eat ice cream and call Lissa and forget about everything else for a while.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" I leaned against the wall and tipped my head upwards, closing my eyes so I didn't have to see Dimitri's face. "I tuned out for a small part at the end, yes, but I did listen to the rest. It's just…" I opened my eyes to see spark of curiosity in Dimitri's face. I straightened up. "Never mind. I'm tired. I'll be in our room if you need me, otherwise I'll see you at dinner, okay?"

I turned on my heels and left without hearing if it actually was.

"Rose!"

I winced at her shrill tone and held the phone away from my ear. "Hey, Liss."

"Why is this the first call I'm getting from you?" Lissa continued, sounding disgruntled. "I miss you like crazy already, and it's only been six days!"

"I miss you too," I chuckled. "It's like a freaking boot camp over here. You know that Alto guy that was supposed to be my partner?"

"Sure."

"Well, he's not. I got someone else," I said, immediately jumping at the opportunity to get some frustration off my chest, "and he's like my goddamn living nightmare, I swear to you. I guess he's some kind of big deal around here, which automatically makes him my boss, apparently, and not only does he accost me in hallways and bitch me out for things like not paying attention for like _three seconds_, but he wakes me up at _five_. A.m. Every day. I'm about one wake-up call away from ripping his head off and throwing it out the window."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other line, and then, "Is he hot?"

I gaped, ignoring the immediate _yes _that appeared in my head. "Lissa! That is so not important!"

"He's hot," she stated. I sighed.

"Whatever. How are things at the Academy?" I had decided not to tell her the details of the mission, so that she wouldn't worry. She didn't know what it was about, other than the fact that I was about eliminating Strigoi just like pretty much all expeditions were, and she didn't know I was leaving tomorrow. She didn't know I might not be coming back.

"Okay, I guess," she responded. "We've found some quite interesting old scripts in this church attic about some kind of super-compulsion and what seems to be the diary of Vladimir himself, though the language is incredibly old fashioned, so it's hard to understand it. We're getting there, though." She seemed excited about the prospect of learning more about her mysterious element, and I smiled absentmindedly. Even though I wasn't her Guardian or anything I was happy she was happy, and I wanted her safe. I guess it was just a sort of instinct for all Dhampirs; protecting the Moroi. I just did it differently than the Guardians – better, of course.

We talked some more and before hanging up, just in time for Dimitri to enter the room. I couldn't help but salivate at the sight of him; tight, black T-shirt accentuating his muscles; casual, dark jeans with those combat boots and those chocolate brown eyes that could harden like ice or melt like drizzling honey or blaze up with desire… and those kissable lips that at the moment was set in a straight line that made me want to just –

"Howdy, Comrade." I leaned back on the bed, purposely showing off my generous chest in my tight singlet. What? I was getting desperate, okay?

"We need to get ready for tonight," Dimitri said flatly while looking everywhere else but by breasts. Or me at all, actually. "The dress code is quite strict, so you better change into something other than pajama shorts."

I rolled my eyes, slumping in defeat. It made me kind of sad that the only guy I had ever liked this way behaved like a statue towards me, but I didn't have a right to be mad at him for it or anything. It wasn't his fault, it was mine, and I needed to get over it before I actually fell for him.

Since it was our last night before going out to kill ourselves, basically, Queen Tatiana had decided to grace us with her almighty presence as a sign of her appreciation. There would be a banquet tonight in honor of our "sacrifice". I snorted, standing up and walking over to my closet to look for a dress. I didn't really buy dresses myself since I had little to no money, but Lissa had a huge amount and she wasn't reluctant to spend it. Since we looked so different, I think she liked to dress me up with things she couldn't really pull off. I usually just endured it because she's so darn cute – you just can't say no to her – but it did come in handy for moments like these.

My hands closed around a thin, silky material and when I pulled the piece out I couldn't help but grin cockily. Stage one in forgetting stupid Russian: look dead sexy and feel great about it all night.

Stage two: find someone else to replace him.


End file.
